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This is Part C -
Continued from Part B - New Zealand unveiled -
Brian Hooker
Captions to follow.
13. 1606: Dutch courage
Le Maire and
Schouten were part of a mini-flood of Dutch mariners for four decades from
1606 onwards. Many of these explorers found and charted various parts of
Australia’s coast, beginning with a pinnace, the
Duyfken, which was
sent from Bantam (present-day Banten, West Java), to explore New Guinea,
other unknown lands east and west, and to seek gold. The Duyfken
was under the command of Willem Jansz, and Jan Lodewycksz van Roosengin
sailed with him as supercargo.
The
Duyfken crossed the Arafura Sea, unaware of the strait north of
Australia - they thought the western entrance to the strait was merely a
broad bay indenting the New Guinea coast - and made landfall on the west
coast of Cape York Peninsula in or about March 1606. The pinnace continued
south, following the peninsula as far as Cape Keerweer (Turnback) in
latitude 13 2/3. degrees south.
Between
1616 and 1636, a number of Dutch ships chanced on parts of the west,
northwest and southern coasts of Australia. Most of them were outward
bound from the Netherlands to the East Indies via the Cape of Good Hope
and none of them ventured to the eastern side, where they might have
stumbled onto New Zealand, rapidly becoming the wallflower of the south
Pacific.
One of
the Dutchmen was Jan Carstensz, who took two pinnaces,
Arnhem and
Pera, from Amboina in the Dutch East Indies and made numerous
discoveries on the west side of Cape York Peninsula, in 1623. He reached
as far south as the Gilbert River; and later, when the vessels became
separated, his fellow commander, in the Arnhem, Willem Joosten van
Colster, located what is now Arnhem Land. But, if they were looking for
the western entrance to Torres Strait, neither found it.
The
first Dutch expedition to follow Le Maire’s route round Cape Horn was the
so-called Nassau fleet of ten ships, which sailed from Holland in 1623.
Their goal was to attack Spanish possessions on South America’s west coast
but they first found that Cape Horn formed part of an island group, which
Le Maire and Schouten apparently had not realised. The Nassau fleet
carried out it viciousness with the Spanish, crossed to Batavia and was
split up there.
Another
of these roving Dutchmen was Abel Janszoon Tasman, who made two momentous
voyages of discovery in the southwest Pacific during Anthony van Diemen’s
term as governor-general of Batavia.
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Tasman's two ships
1642-43. |
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Detail from a redrawn
version of
the Tasman-Bonaparte
map. |
The
first voyage stemmed from a treatise written in early 1642 by an
experienced Dutch pilot of Batavia (today’s Jakarta), Francoys Jacobszoon
Visscher, and outlining plans for discovering the “Southland”. One idea
was to strike south from Mauritius to latitude 52 degrees or 54 degrees
south and then, if no land appeared on the horizon, to sail east to the
longitude of a group of islands, which were portrayed on the chart the
expedition carried, as "Islas de Salomon". Visscher equated these islands
with Le Maire’s 1616 discoveries from Tafahi to Îles de Horne. As
mentioned earlier, Le Maire mistakenly thought these islands, found
northwest of modern-day Tonga, were Mendaña’s Solomon Islands.
A second
proposition was to head south from the Cape of Good Hope to approximately
latitude 54 degrees south and then sail east, following the first plan. A
third proposed sailing east from Staten Landt (today’s Staten Island or
Islas de Estados, southeast of the southern tip of South America), across
the South Atlantic and South Pacific to the longitude of "Islas de
Salomon". A fourth suggested heading south from the "Islas de Salomon" to
latitude 50 degrees south and then sailing east. South America might be
reached if no other lands got in the way.
All
these notions were extremely bold but practicalities, and possibly fate,
led to the decision that probably the most sensible was to pursue the
first of them, southwest and then east from Mauritius. The Dutch East
India Company decided to send two vessels, the jacht
Heemskerck and
the fluyt Zeehaen, under the command of Tasman with the visionary Visscher as
navigator and chief adviser.
Sailing
from Batavia on August 14, 1642, the expedition called at Mauritius and
then, on October 8, turned south. Tasman and Visscher calculated longitude
by dead-reckoning and their eastings and westings were expressed in
degrees of longitude east of the prime meridian passing over the Peak of
Tenerife in the Canary Islands.
They
sailed to latitude 49 degrees south and straight into very cold and stormy
weather. Visscher advised returning to 44 degrees south and then turning
east, which ran them directly into previously unknown Tasmania. They
skirted the island to the south, regained latitude 44 degrees and
determined to continue steering east. New Zealand was not going to escape
this time.
Around
noon on December 13, sailing east-by-north, Tasman sighted a long and
mountainous coast running north-south. He had found the west coast of the
South Island in the Hokitika-Abut Head area.
He
shaped his course northwards to follow the coast -- which way to go must
have been an interesting decision given that the coast stretched
interminably in either direction. Two days later he found a conspicuous
point which he named Clippije Hoeck (Rocky Point), today’s Cape Foulwind,
the name later applied by the innovative Cook.
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Golden Bay in 1642 -
named by Abel Tasman
"Murderers Bay".
This version is a
hand-drawn sketch bound in with the
State Archives
Journal preserved at The Hague,
Netherlands. This is
a copy made at Batavia by
an unknown copyist of
the original work sketched
by an unknown artist
at Golden Bay. |
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For a translation of
the legend go to Page WXP1. |
On December 18, the ships hove to in
a large and beautiful bay. It is now known as Golden Bay but Tasman named
it Mordenaers Baij (Murderers Bay) because four Dutchmen were
killed when unwelcoming Māori
attacked a cockboat from the Zeehaen. Tasman did not linger too
long there but sailed on along the coast looking for a place to land and
obtain provisions and water with less risk of sudden death.
Tasman
reached the western entrance to Cook Strait and suspected that a passage
existed between the coast he was following and another looming to his
portside. Any idea of examining both coasts to test his theory was
scuttled by the roughness of the weather. He called the coast north and
south of the Manawatu-Rangitikei area Seehaens bocht (Zeehaen’s Bight).
The continuing bad weather prevented
Tasman from setting foot on land at any point but there is little doubt
that, given calm weather, he could have found and traversed Cook Strait,
investigated the east coast of the North Island and, almost certainly,
have achieved landings. This would have placed him among much friendlier
Māori than the war
party he did encounter.
But,
bowing to the conditions, the expedition turned back to the north and
followed the west coast until January 4, 1643, when it reached what was
obviously the northernmost point of this long coastline.
Tasman
courteously called it "Caabo maria van Diemen" (Cape Maria van Diemen) in
honour of the wife of the governor-general in Batavia. On the same day,
they sighted a group of islands, and named them "drie koonijgh eylant"
(Three Kings Islands) because they anchored there on Three Kings Eve
(Epiphany).
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Tasman's view
"Three Kings Islands". |
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Tasman
called the long western littoral Staten Landt, in honour of the
States-General of the United Provinces of the Netherlands, for the simple
and, today, startling reason that he believed, but was not certain, that
this land was merely part of Staten Landt, east of Le Maire Strait at the
southern tip of South America. (See Tasman’s journal - Page
EXM1.]
The
expedition worked northeast, making significant discoveries in the Tonga
group and the Fiji islands, then heading west and sailing north of New
Guinea, to anchor back in Batavia on June 15, 1643.
Little
is known of Tasman’s subsequent life since his contemporaries failed to
anticipate his later fame. He was not regarded as an important person in
the Netherlands or Batavia. It is probable that various paintings, which
are claimed to represent Tasman and his family, are not authentic. He died
at Batavia in 1659.
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The track of Tasman's
expedition, Batavia (Jakarta) to Batavia
1642-1643. |
But he
had found and charted parts of the west and south coasts of Tasmania had
taken his ships for hundreds of miles along the northern and north-western
Australian coastline and had been the first European to set eyes on New
Zealand and during his second voyage of discovery, in 1644, had taken his
ships for hundreds of miles along the northern and north-western
Australian coastline.
14. 1740: Davis Land, where are you?
The years rolled on by - and 127 of them had passed after Tasman’s
discovery before New Zealand again came into the thoughts of
Europeans. The Pacific scene, however, was never idle. Numerous
European explorers roamed the ocean and from 1740, the English
became the most active of them. A new era of circumnavigations began
but, before that, English buccaneers had a merry time, preying on
Spanish settlements and ships along the west coast of America and
arrogantly asserting England’s rightful mastery of the oceans.
§
One of them, Edward Davis, sailing a Danish prize renamed
Bachelor’s Delight, in a 1687 voyage recorded by Lionel
Wafer a surgeon with the ship, was the man who gave rise to the suspected
existence of a mysterious land that later became known as “Davis’ Land”.
Davis headed from the Galapagos Islands for Islas Juan Fernandez and from
a position in latitude 12 degrees south and about 500 leagues west of
Chile, steered “S by E 1/2 Easterly” until the ship reached latitude 27
1/3 degrees south. On a clear dawn, Davis viewed a small, low, sandy
island and, to the west at a distance of about 12 leagues, a range of high
land, which some of his companions thought might be part of the coast of
Terra Australis Incognita.
Davis’ Land became a puzzle which many later navigators were unable
to solve. It appeared on a number of 18th century printed maps and
it remained a curiosity until recently, when it was realised that
what Davis had seen was Sala-y-Gomez, a small island east of Easter
Island.
§
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George Anson
(1697-1762) |
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In September 1740, during the 11-year Anglo-Spanish war, which began
in 1739, the British Admiralty dispatched George Anson as commander
of a squadron of six ships, led by the 60-gun
Centurion. His
mission was mainly to incite the Spanish colonists of Chile and Peru
to revolt against Spain and gain their independence, undoubtedly
with advantage to the British in mind.
Anson
spent considerable time and ammunition raiding the Spanish shipping
lanes off the South American coast before crossing the Pacific to
China. He then sailed east again and had the great good fortune to
capture a treasure-laden galleon bound from Manila to Mexico. He
then continued his westerly voyage round the world, arriving home
after three years. He obviously gained a great deal of bounty and
stirred up considerable interest but his addition to Pacific
discovery was nil.
In March 1764, the
Admiralty began preparations for another expedition. In June, John
Byron, who had been with Anson on his expedition, sailed from the
Downs in command of the frigate Dolphin and the sloop Tamar.
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© National Maritime
Museum,
London. |
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John Byron
(1723-86) by
_Joshua
Reynolds
Oil painting |
After traversing the
Strait of Magellan, Byron called at Isla Alejandro Selkirk and then
began a search for “Davis’ Land”. He, too, failed and shaped his
course to the west, hoping to fall in with the Solomon Islands or
even find something new. He had little luck, making only a few minor
discoveries as he crossed to Tinian, one of the Ladrones Islands,
now known as the Mariana Islands. He was back at anchor in the Downs
on May 9, 1766, after a circumnavigation, which had lasted less than
two years. Neither of these expeditions held any significance for
New Zealand’s future but two, which followed Byron's return to
England, did.
Samuel Wallis, in the refitted
Dolphin and accompanied by
Philip Carteret in command of the sloop
Swallow and a
storeship, the Prince Frederick, carried secret Admiralty
orders to try to find land believed to exist between Cape Horn and
New Zealand. He was instructed to stretch to the westward about 100
or 120 degrees of longitude from Cape Horn. This course would bring
him to the longitude of New Zealand.
The Admiralty, however were confident that he would have found the
coast of the supposed southern continent long before he sailed so
far, and gave him detailed instructions for surveying the coast
discovered, dealing with its inhabitants, and taking possession.
In spite of the experiences of all the earlier navigators,
particularly Anson and Byron, who had entered the Pacific from the
same quarter, and in spite of the voyage of Tasman whose entry into
the Pacific from the west, had been relatively straightforward, the
lesson had not yet been learned that it was almost a physical
impossibility for a sailing-ship to make headway against the west
winds. It was James Cook who
later recognized this essential fact.
Even before the expedition left Plymouth late in August 1766, it
became apparent that the Swallow had been inaptly named. It was
quite unsuitable as an consort for the faster Dolphin but it
kept company as far as the Strait of Magellan, a route Wallis had
chosen because of a better chance of obtaining fresh provisions than
the Cape Horn alternative.
After struggling through the strait, Carteret, who had been a
lieutenant under Byron, suggested to Wallis that he should take the
Swallow back to England and that Wallis should continue
alone. Wallis rejected this idea but, soon after leaving the strait
on April 11, 1767, realised he would make better time alone and the
two vessels separated.
Wallis did not sail, as directed, to the west in a southern latitude
because of the powerful westerlies but, for a week or more in May,
mounted a look-out for the elusive “Davis’ Land”. Nothing was
sighted and, by early June, Wallis was exploring the eastern part of
the Tuamotu Archipelago, plotting five small islands previously
uncharted.
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Samuel Wallis
being greeted at
Tahiti, 1767. |
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Detail from an
engraving in,
John
Hawkesworth, An account
of the
voyages undertaken ...
for making
discoveries in the
Southern
hemisphere, vol. 1,
London, 1773. |
On June 17, 1767 Wallis found Mehetia in the Society Islands and,
the following day, sailed into Matavai Bay, Tahiti. The visitors
spent five weeks in this Polynesian paradise, setting a fair
standard for modern tourists.
Setting sail again on July 28, Wallis added several minor islands to
the Society Islands’ map but he did not turn south to investigate
high land previously seen, which might have guided him to the
supposed southern
continent. Instead, he sailed west to navigate the gap between the
Samoa and Tonga groups, charting some lesser islands as he went.
Via the Ladrones and Batavia, he doubled the Cape of Good Hope
and anchored in the Downs on May 20,
1768.
Although he gave a sterling demonstration of failure in his main
instructions and lack of initiative, Wallis filed reports, which
persuaded the Royal Society and the Admiralty that Tahiti would be
an ideal place for James Cook to observe the Transit of Venus in the
following year.
When Wallis left the dawdling
Swallow in his wake, Carteret
decided he would head for Islas Juan Fernández, obtain refreshments
and then sail west. Instead, to his surprise, he found Cumberland
Bay, in Isla Alejandro Selkirk, which was so loomingly and ominously
dominated by a Spanish fort, he turned tail and withdrew tactfully
to Isla Robinson Crusoe where he partially refilled his water
barrels.
And then, as Wallis and his predecessors had done, he changed his
mind about sailing westward and was attracted to the more favourable
trade winds. On May 21, 1767, he believed he was in the vicinity of
Isla San Ambrosio and Isla San Félix and made a fruitless search to
find them. It was his wrong deduction that these islands were the
elusive “Davis’ Land” sighted by Edward Davis nearly 80 years
earlier, even though he was on a course more than 20 degrees north
of that set out in a copy of the Admiralty’s secret instructions,
which, fortunately, he had been given by Wallis. He was still on a
much more southerly track than any previous European navigator but
his only reward was to find lonely Pitcairn Island, later to be
settled by the Bounty mutineers.
Another year passed before Carteret arrived at Batavia, having
sailed through the Solomon Islands without realising that he was
near Mendaña’s 1568 discovery. By the time he dropped anchor at
Spithead on May 20, 1769, a year later than Wallis, James Cook was
months into his voyage to mark the Transit of Venus and later to
achieve a much greater understanding of the size and shape of New
Zealand than Tasman had managed.
While Carteret was working his way homeward and Cook’s
expedition was being readied, Louis Antoine de Bougainville was
establishing himself as the first of several distinguished French
navigators who explored the Pacific during the second half of the
18th century and early in the 19th. Bougainville did not visit New
Zealand, thereby negating the possibility that we could have become
a nation of French speakers, but he solved many of the mysteries of
the Pacific.
In command of two ships, the frigate Boudeuse and the
storeship Étoile, he cleared the Strait of Magellan on
January 26, 1768, and made the usual vain search for “Davis’ Land”
before setting the customary northwest course. Passing through the
Tuamoto Archipelago - and adding a few more details to knowledge of
this group of islands - he reached Tahiti on April 4. As Wallis had
discovered the year before, the inhabitants entertained and feasted
their visitors in lavish style so the Frenchman laid up there for
ten days, rather less time than the English had elected to spare
from their duties.
From Tahiti, Bougainville passed through the Samoa Islands and the
northern islands of Vanuatu and on May 29, left Espiritu Santo and
sailed west along the 15th parallel in search of the east coast of
Australia. Instead, he encountered some of the reefs east of the
Great Barrier Reef and was forced to turn north.
He was now in a position to test the theory of a passage separating
New Guinea and Australia but a starving crew and difficult weather
blocked him. He crept on northwards, sighting New Guinea on his port
side, and eventually reached New Ireland on July 6. But, on the way,
he left his mark - he found an island which today bears
Bougainville's name. Storms and earthquakes were added to his list
of difficulties as he made his way to Batavia and then struck out
for home round the Cape of Good Hope, entering the harbour at St
Malo on March 16, 1769.
His contribution was mainly that of the astronomer who accompanied
him, Pierre Antoine Véron. He carried out remarkably accurate
longitude calculations during the circumnavigation, leading to a
major advance in understanding the true width of the Pacific Ocean,
which, until this point, had been a matter of some fairly wild
guesswork and conjecture by a host of pioneering explorers.
15. 1644-45: On the map at last
The part of New Zealand found by Tasman appeared on printed maps and
globes with commendable speed. Some Amsterdam map publishers, eager
to include all the latest geographical information in their maps,
incorporated data surreptitiously obtained from the Dutch East
Indies. Plainly, the leakage of secret information is not a
modern-day phenomenon.
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Courtesy of the Maritiem Museum, Rotterdam |
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W. J. Blaeu - Joan Blaeu, "World Map", Amsterdam, 1619-1646 |
As early as 1644-45, Tasman’s "Staten Landt" was inscribed alongside
part of New Zealand’s west coast slightly misplaced - the name
Zeelandia Nova was devised later, almost certainly by the Amsterdam
publisher and cartographer to the Dutch East India Company, Joan
Blaeu, in association with an official or officials of the company.
The name no doubt was given to compliment the province of Zeeland,
which was the seat of the second most important chamber of the
company.
Access to the company’s confidential information enabled Blaeu to
update his maps and globes using Tasman's more authentic records.
Between 1647-48 and 1670 Blaeu published at least five cartographic
works portraying part of New Zealand beside the name "Nova
Zeelandia". His maps and globes were widely circulated and before
long other publishers in the Netherlands, France, Italy, Germany and
England began modelling the southwest Pacific area in their maps on
Blaeu's data.
So although New Zealand slumbered unvisited as the decades rolled by
it was not forgotten in Europe and slightly changed circumstances in
1722 could well have altered the course of history. It all came down
to a last-minute debate and a decision to place discretion ahead of
valour.
§
On August 1, 1721, Jacob Roggeveen left Texel Island in command of a
three-ship expedition with instructions from the Dutch West India
Company, founded a century earlier, to break the East India
Company’s monopoly on trade. He
was also to search in the South Seas for “Davis’ Land”, and to
investigate land which Willem Schouten, in 1616, had surmised lay to
the south of an area of smooth water in about latitude 15 degrees
south. It was also envisaged that the ships might proceed to
New Zealand, now known to exist in latitude 35 degrees south, and
quest farther west in search of Terra de Quir (Land of Quiros),
which Quirós had assumed to extend south from Espiritu Santo.
Roggeveen entered the Pacific through Drake Passage, anchored
briefly at Isla Robinson Crusoe and then sailed on and became the
first to discover a new island. It was Easter Day, 1722, so he named
it Easter Island. He then searched in vain for “Davis’ Land” but
made several discoveries in the Tuamotu Archipelago. He landed at
Makatea and enjoyed the friendliness of the natives - until they
began pelting stones at their Dutch guests.
One of the expedition’s three ships, De Africaansche Galey,
was wrecked on Takapoto Island and the flavour of the voyage was
beginning to sour.
On June 3, 1722, Roggeveen held a full council of captains and
officers on his flagship, Den Arend, to seriously
consider setting a course for New Zealand. The council discussed the
relative advantages and disadvantages of an approach from the east
or the west but the main concern that developed was pure and simple
fear. Fear that the natives would prevent them from landing and
obtaining fresh water and fear of what might happen when they took
sick members of their crews ashore for rest.
The whole idea of using New Zealand as a refreshment stop before
returning round Cape Horn was eventually dismissed and the council
decided they were obliged to carry on to the East Indies. Had a more
resolute commander made for New Zealand, met friendly Maori on the
east coast and reported back to the Netherlands, Dutch settlers may
well have preceded British colonists to this country.
During his westerly course for Batavia, Roggeveen charted several
discoveries in the Samoa Islands but no effort was made to
investigate Quirós’ supposed southern continent. Again, caution
prevailed.
They sailed Den Arend and the Thienhoven into
Batavia on October 4, 1722, and any plans for challenging control in
the area were
scuppered when, like Le Maire and Schouten before them, the ships
were seized and the officers and crews ordered back to the
Netherlands.
The voyage was among the most unfortunate in the history of Pacific
explorations despite a number of additions, notably Easter Island,
it made to the growing knowledge of the vast area.
16. 1768: Cook’s tours begin
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James Cook.
An early
engraving. |
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Author's
collection. |
The scheduled transit of Venus across the face of the sun in 1769
had been occupying the Royal Society for most of that decade. That
observations should be made from the South Seas was largely due to
the steadfast campaigning of a noted geographer and hydrographer,
Alexander Dalrymple, who wanted the planning authorities to extend
the range of the observation expedition to include a search for the
supposed southern continent. He was equally interested in drawing
attention to himself because he wanted to take an active part in any
voyage that eventuated.
His campaign worked well enough for the Society to recommend to the
Admiralty that the civilian Dalrymple should be given command of a
Royal Navy ship. The Admiralty vetoed that idea smartly and gave the
command to James Cook, with the rank of first lieutenant. Cook was a
practical seaman with a particular interest in navigational theory
and, to some extent, in astronomy. He impressed the Royal Society in
1766 when he presented a paper on determining longitude through an
eclipse of the sun at Newfoundland.
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Alexander
Dalrymple. |
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Engraving by
William
Ridley after a
drawing
by John Brown,
published by J.
Sewell,
London, 1802.
- Author's
Collection.
|
Cook was appointed an observer for the Venus transit and Charles
Green was elected second observer. A group of civilians, all devoted
to scientific observations and headed by Joseph Banks, was chosen to
accompany Cook. Dalrymple was not on the list. He had withdrawn in a
total huff; if he was not going to be the commander, he wanted no
part in the expedition at all. However, before Cook’s party set
sail, he did give Banks an advance copy of his book, An Account
of the Discoveries Made in the
South Pacifick Ocean,
Previous to 1764. The book contained not only a map of the
South Pacific but also an explanation of the author’s theory about
the hypothetical southern continent and the possibility of a strait
existing where, in due course, Cook Strait was found to be.
The barque Endeavour, the vessel chosen for the voyage, was
“cat-built”, bluff-bowed and strong and was still being prepared for
sailing when Wallis brought news of his discovery of Tahiti and the
sighting of supposed land to the south. Just what Wallis reported
about Tahiti, given the generosity and friendliness of the
Tahitians, is a matter of conjecture, but the decision was
immediately made that Tahiti was the place from which the transit
most assuredly had to be observed. Cook was then given secret
instructions which he was to open, read and follow as soon as the
astronomical segment of the expedition was completed.
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Detail
from an engraving, after a sketch by Sydney
Parkinson, published with the official account of
Cook's
first voyage. This is one of the few
contemporary
depictions of the
Endeavour. The barque is
shown at
anchor in Matavai Bay, Tahiti.
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Author's
collection. |
The Endeavour sailed from Plymouth on August 26, 1768, and
entered the Pacific through Le Maire Strait in January 1769. Cook
added the atoll of Ravahere to the map of the Tuamotu Archipelago as
he sailed through and into Wallis’ Matavia Bay anchorage in Tahiti
on April 13, in ample time for the establishment of the on-shore
observatory.
The observation of the transit was a notable success and Cook then
opened his sealed Admiralty packet to find out what he had to do
next. Quite simply, he was to search between latitudes 35 degrees
south and 40 degrees south for the southern continent and, if that
exercise failed, to fall in with the eastern coast of the land named
in Dalrymple's map "Staats Land or New Zeland". Cook was instructed
to ascertain its latitude and longitude and to explore as much of
the coast as the condition of the bark, the health of the crew and
the reserves of provisions permitted.
The Admiralty was not buying into Tasman’s already discredited
"Staten Landt" theory. Another Dutch explorer, Hendrik Brouwer, had
circumnavigated the original Staten Island and found it not only
small but also extremely miserable.
So, naturally, Cook did not find the mystic continent, for the
simple reason that it wasn’t there, but early in the afternoon of
October 7, he sighted Poverty Bay, his first glimpse of New Zealand
and the beginning of months of sailing, studying and observing that
finally planted this country firmly and recognisably on the face of
the earth, some 1800 years after it was first found and inhabited.
Banks clung to the notion that they had found the coast of the great
southern continent and let the idea go rather reluctantly - and when
the Endeavour finally circumnavigated New Zealand Banks
thought the elusive continent must exist east from New Zealand.
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Detail showing Tasman's charting of part of the
west coast of New Zealand, from Dalrymple's
map, 1764. Part of Tasmania lower left. Cook
and Banks studied this (whole) map as
the
Endeavour approached New
Zealand in 1769. |
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Author's collection. |
As soon as they encountered land Cook was quite confident that it
was the east coast of Tasman’s "Staten Land", and it wasn’t a
continent’s distance from the western side. Cook ignored the
preferred name in Dalrymple's map and applied the name "New Zeland"
in his charts and journal entries. If he had followed Dalrymple's
lead we might have been known today as "Staten Landers".
Continued in Part D -
Click
HERE.
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